on my tenth morning in Mexico, I woke up to a gentle rain, that seems to have come from the East, out of the Caribbean. The Sea meets the shore only two blocks from where I am staying and I can see little blue bits of it on a sunny morning. Now the sea is lost in mist and the rain comes down all around us on this spit of land between the sea and the Salina directly opposite of it. East is below me, according to the direction of the sunrise (on days when I can see it), so the Salina must be Southwest of me, it is another two blocks, maybe. I can’t get my maps to work, here, so I am limited in what I can say for certain. I have to give thanks for what I have which is always a thing to remember.
the rain comes down heavily and then tapers off, once everything is already soaked, it might as well keep going. Two Doves sit on a palm frond and make their gurgling noises, which build into the familiar tropical morning cooing hoot, not dissimilar to a Rooster’s crow. In watching one closely, it seemed beyond his control. The rain has knocked out the internet here, which was out all day on a sunny day, last week… it isn’t crucial at all but it is one something I have taken for granted.
the waves crash now, with more authority than before, they’re filled up with the full-strength of this morning’s storm. I’m gonna head out into it and see what I can find… I’m planning to ride the Southeasterly route ’til it ends a la Punta Sur and then work my way back along the Bayside.I’ll sit here for a bit while I digest the quesadilla I just ate, the second day in a row of doing so… I form patterns and it takes a lot to change them. I accepted, though opted out of eating, the pico de gallo, you know those fresh tomatoes and onions, et cetera with some herbs and an oil, spicy. I sit by the sea watching a rain out there to the northeast, more up in the Gulf, past Holbox, this is an ideal spot and no one else is on the beach at all this late Monday (lunes) morning…
morning lead into midday and now on to nearly early evening here, the day light, while a lengthier period of time than back at home, high up in those dark, old, wintry mountains, is still very fleeting. I really need to get an earlier start. I missed my second swim of the day, but I did ride down, again, to la Punta Sur and there I got the best and freshest Churros yet… I asked the Lady for “Churros Natural” She shook her head, “Churros normale…” again with the no, finally, I read what it said before me, “Churros Tradicionales!” Si! said She and began the process from the play-dough like churros pumper-outer gizmo, into the hot oil, with great care, even removing one that wasn’t just right. As I ate my Churros, I happened to loook up at the “Light House” and saw something I had never before seen, the Frigate Birds perched on the railing, thereof. I had mentioned this twice, this morning and here they all were!